Tuesday, 20 February 2018

“In Spain, the
dead are more alive than the dead of any other country in the world.” -
Federico Garcia Lorca

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.

Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Valladolid is a city in
Spain and the de facto capital of the autonomous community of Castile and León.
It has a population of 309,714 people (2013 est.), making it Spain's 13th most
populous municipality and northwestern Spain’s biggest city. Its metropolitan
area ranks 20th in Spain with a population of 414,244 people in 23
municipalities. The city is situated at the confluence of the Pisuerga and
Esgueva rivers 15 km before they join the Duero, and located within five
winegrowing regions: Ribera del Duero, Rueda, Toro, Tierra de León, and
Cigales.

Valladolid was
originally settled in pre-Roman times by the Celtic Vaccaei people, and later
the Romans themselves. It remained a small settlement until being
re-established by King Alfonso VI of Castile as a Lordship for the Count Pedro
Ansúrez in 1072. It grew to prominence in the Middle Ages as the seat of the
Court of Castile and being endowed with fairs and different institutions as a
collegiate church, University (1241), Royal Court and Chancery and the Royal
Mint.

The Catholic
Monarchs, Isabel I of Castile and Ferdinand II of Aragon, married in Valladolid
in 1469 and established it as the capital of the Kingdom of Castile and later
of united Spain. Christopher Columbus died in Valladolid in 1506, while authors
Francisco de Quevedo and Miguel de Cervantes lived and worked in the city. The
city was briefly the capital of Habsburg Spain under Phillip III between 1601
and 1606, before returning indefinitely to Madrid. The city then declined until
the arrival of the railway in the 19th century, and with its industrialisation
into the 20th century.

The Old Town is
made up of a variety of historic houses, palaces, churches, plazas, avenues and
parks, and includes the National Museum of Sculpture, the Museum of Contemporary
Art Patio Herreriano or the Oriental Museum, as well as the houses of José
Zorrilla and Cervantes which are open as museums. Among the events that are
held each year in the city there is Holy Week, Valladolid International Film
Week (Seminci), and the Theatre Festival and street arts (TAC).

Sunday, 18 February 2018

“We live in a fantasy world, a world of illusion. The great task in life is to find reality.” - Iris Murdoch

Alexander Sigov was born on February 25, 1955 in Leningrad. He graduated from the V. A. Serov Art College in 1975. Since 1994 he is a member of the Soyuz artist group. Collections where works are exhibited are in the Museum of Modern Art in Seoul, South Korea; private collections in Russia, Germany, France, Turkey, Japan, Sweden, Czechia, Canada, and United States. He has participated in many group exhibitions and has had several one-man exhibitions in Russia and abroad.

In an autobiographical note, the artist states: “Salvador Dali, in one of his Ten Commandments says: ‘Do not be afraid of the perfection you did not achieve’. Painting is something that helps me to draw near to this mystery of perfection. If in life we aim to achieve certain goals, such as to understand the mystery of truth – as perfection must be considered – not rarely comes disappointment. However, in art there is hope to approach this ideal, learning much from the process every day.”

Sigov in his paintings adopts the aesthetics and symbolism of images of the past and processes them in his own unique manner, creating his own personal universe, in which a certain familiarity becomes renewed and added to it are decorative elements, sumptuous textures and unexpected touches of whimsy. Saturation of colour on the one hand with delicate pastel tones on the other, a variety of beautiful embossed patterns with superimposed fine lines of masterful drawing, satisfying composition and a pictorial plane packed with fine detail allow the artist to express the fusion of styles and images in a harmonious end-product.

Saturday, 17 February 2018

“She had passed her whole life as does everyone, rushing and dreaming in blind, deaf refusal of the miracle of each moment.” ― Umberto Bartolomeo

Luigi Rossi (c. 1597 – 20 February 1653) was an Italian Baroque composer. Rossi was born in Torremaggiore, a small town near Foggia, in the ancient kingdom of Naples and at an early age he went to Naples. There he studied music with the Franco-Flemish composer Jean de Macque who was organist of the Santa Casa dell’Annunziata and maestro di cappella to the Spanish viceroy.

Rossi later entered the service of the Caetani, dukes of Traetta.Rossi composed just two operas: Il palazzo incantato, which was given at Rome in 1642; and Orfeo, written after he was invited by Cardinal Mazarin in 1646 to go to Paris for that purpose, and given its premiere there in 1647. Rossi returned to France in 1648 hoping to write another opera, but no production was possible because the court had sought refuge outside Paris. Rossi returned to Rome by 1650 and never attempted anything more for the stage.

A collection of cantatas published in 1646 describes him as musician to Cardinal Antonio Barberini, and Giacomo Antonio Perti in 1688 speaks of him along with Carissimi and Cesti as “the three greatest lights of our profession”. Rossi is noteworthy principally for his chamber-cantatas, which are among the finest that the 17th century produced. A large quantity are in manuscripts in the British Library and in Christ Church Library, Oxford. La Gelosia, printed by F. A. Gevaert in Les Gloires d’Italie, is an admirable specimen. He left about 300 cantatas in total.

Friday, 16 February 2018

“One day in winter, on my return home, my mother, seeing that I was cold, offered me some tea, a thing I did not ordinarily take. I declined at first, and then, for no particular reason, changed my mind. She sent for one of those squat, plump little cakes called ‘petites madeleines’, which look as though they had been moulded in the fluted valve of a scallop shell. And soon, mechanically, dispirited after a dreary day with the prospect of a depressing morrow, I raised to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had soaked a morsel of the cake.

No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory - this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. I had ceased now to feel mediocre, contingent, mortal. Whence could it have come to me, this all-powerful joy? I sensed that it was connected with the taste of the tea and the cake, but that it infinitely transcended those savours, could, no, indeed, be of the same nature. Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it?”Marcel Proust - À la recherche du temps perdu

Madeleines are that famous little French butter cake, which have a literary reputation, having served as Marcel Proust’s muse in his famous book: “Remembrance of Things Past.” Although madeleines appear to be simple they require patience and careful measuring of ingredients and following of instructions. When well-prepared, madeleines are a delightful little cake, browned and crispy on the outside and spongy and soft on the inside. Perfect for your afternoon cup of tea.

MethodPreheat oven to 190°C. Generously butter and flour pan for large madeleines (recipe is for 20 pieces).Using an electric mixer, beat eggs and 2/3 cup sugar in large bowl just to blend. Beat in vanilla and lemon peel. Add flour; beat gently until just blended.Gradually add cooled melted butter in steady stream, beating just until blended.Spoon 1 tablespoon of batter into each indentation in the pan. Bake until puffed and brown, about 10-16 minutes.Cool 5 minutes. Gently remove from pan. Repeat process, buttering and flouring pan before each batch (can be made 1 day ahead). Dust with icing sugar.

Thursday, 15 February 2018

A great book for
Cryptic Crossword aficionados, this is partly a vade mecum on how to solve those devilish Friday DA cryptics in the
“Age” newspaper, but also an amusing memoir, an eclectic autobiography of the
master setter himself, replete with humorous anecdotes and examples of great
clues and how to solve them.

An amusing
history of “private life” through the ages and the place where it all happens,
the home and its various rooms. But not only! Famous and infamous personages,
common and uncommon people and also so many interesting tangents and tidbits
make for a treat to read.

Wednesday, 14 February 2018

“Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace.” - Buddha

This week, Poets United has as its Midweek Motif the topic “word”. Words are the building blocks of our meaningful utterances. We speak them, write them, read them. They appear fleetingly electronically or acquire a more enduring presence when printed. Better still, words hand-written make the stuff of memories when the writer is a person beloved.

But words can be two-faced: Smiling or menacing, serene or agitated, calm or angry, superficial or deep, nonsensical or full of substance. Words can be our hope, our solace, our comfort, our joy; but words (or the absence of the right words) can be our nemesis, words can cut sharper than razor, words can wound more deeply than a knife, can kill more surely than a bullet.

Correspondence IOctober 9th 1990

Waiting for your letter:A promise of rain in the drought;But why must so much die,While waiting for the rain?

Waiting for your letter:A promise of freedom to the prisonerWho must learn to liveAlone with his thoughts in a locked cell.

Waiting for your letter:A promise of hope to the betrayedWho already knows that promises are hollowAnd hope is an illusion.

“I’ll write...” you said, “I give you my word.”And once again I dared to hope, that you write me that word,Knowing full well of the falsity of smilesAnd the despair of fruitless waiting.

Correspondence IIOctober 10th, 1990

Your “letter” awaited meWhen I came home today...

It was as I expected it,And a lot less...

Empty, cold, impersonalScribbled hastily on the post office counter.

Few frosty words,A shallow wish of “...happiness to come...”

And not even a name, nor initialSigned beneath, only a line quickly drawnAs if with the impatience,The gladness of having completedAn unpleasant, onerous obligation...

Tuesday, 13 February 2018

“In France we have a saying, Joie de vivre, which actually doesn’t exist in the English language. It means looking at your life as something that is to be taken with great pleasure and enjoy it.” - Mireille Guiliano

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.

Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Carcassonne is a fortified town in the French department of Aude, in the region of Occitanie. It is the departmental prefecture. Inhabited since the Neolithic period, Carcassonne is located in the Aude plain between historic trade routes, linking the Atlantic to the Mediterranean sea and the Massif Central to the Pyrénées. Its strategic importance was quickly recognised by the Romans, who occupied its hilltop until the demise of the Western Roman Empire. In the fifth century, it was taken over by the Visigoths, who founded the city.

Its strategic location led successive rulers to expand its fortifications until the Treaty of the Pyrenees in 1659. The city is famous for the Cité de Carcassonne, a medieval fortress restored by the theorist and architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc in 1853 and added to the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites in 1997. Consequently, Carcassonne relies heavily on tourism but also counts manufacture and wine-making as some of its other key economic sectors.

The fortified city itself consists essentially of a concentric design of two outer walls with 53 towers and barbicans to prevent attack by siege engines. The castle itself possesses its own drawbridge and ditch leading to a central keep. The walls consist of towers built over quite a long period. One section is Roman and is notably different from the medieval walls with the tell-tale red brick layers and the shallow pitch terracotta tile roofs. One of these towers housed the Catholic Inquisition in the 13th century and is still known as “The Inquisition Tower”. Carcassonne was demilitarised under Napoleon and the Restoration, and the fortified cité of Carcassonne fell into such disrepair that the French government decided that it should be demolished. A decree to that effect that was made official in 1849 caused an uproar.

The antiquary and mayor of Carcassonne, Jean-Pierre Cros-Mayrevieille, and the writer Prosper Mérimée, the first inspector of ancient monuments, led a campaign to preserve the fortress as a historical monument. Later in the year the architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc, already at work restoring the Basilica of Saint-Nazaire, was commissioned to renovate the place. In 1853, work began with the west and southwest walls, followed by the towers of the porte Narbonnaise and the principal entrance to the cité. The fortifications were consolidated here and there, but the chief attention was paid to restoring the roofing of the towers and the ramparts, where Viollet-le-Duc ordered the destruction of structures that had encroached against the walls, some of them of considerable age.

Viollet-le-Duc left copious notes and drawings on his death in 1879, when his pupil Paul Boeswillwald and, later, the architect Nodet continued the rehabilitation of Carcassonne. The restoration was strongly criticised during Viollet-le-Duc’s lifetime. Fresh from work in the north of France, he made the error of using slates and restoring the roofs as point-free environment. Yet, overall, Viollet-le-Duc’s achievement at Carcassonne is agreed to be a work of genius, though not of the strictest authenticity.

Aleksandra Beļcova graduated from the Secondary School for Women in Novozybkov in 1912. Later she started studies in Penza city art school, from which she graduated in 1917. While in Penza she met several Latvian painters who studied there as refugees. Among them were Jēkabs Kazaks, Konrāds Ubāns and Voldemārs Tone. Especially close relationships developed between her and Romans Suta, another Latvian painter who studied in Penza.

In 1917 she went to Petrograd to study in State Free Art Workshop under Nathan Altman. It was in Petrograd that her first solo exhibition was held in 1919. Just after the exhibition she moved to Latvia along with Romans Suta and became a member of the Riga Artists Group. The couple married in 1922 in Riga and after marriage they visited Paris, Berlin and Dresden.

In 1923 their daughter Tatiana was born in Paris. In 1925 she painted “The White and the Black” (above). She was involved in the Roller group exhibitions and Riga Graphic Artists Association in the following years. Her paintings were mostly portraits and still lifes, beginning as a Cubist she turned to realism in later years. Her mediums were oil, watercolour, ink and pencil, and she also painted on porcelain. Beļcova died on February 1, 1981.[1] The home of Aleksandra Belcova and Romans Suta in Elizabetes street 57A-26 in Riga is now turned into memorial museum and art gallery.

Saturday, 10 February 2018

“Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.” ― Maya Angelou

Giovanni Benedetto Platti (1692 - 1763) was born in Padua or Venice in 1692 or 1697. He was musically educated in Venice. His teachers were most probably Francesco Gasparini, Vivaldi, Lotti and indeed Albinoni and the Marcello brothers. There is no significant information about his life before he came to Würzburg in 1722 together with a group of Italian musicians.

Johann Philipp Franz von Schönborn who was Prince-Bishop of Bamberg and Würzburg was deeply preoccupied with Italian music and wanted to expand the music at court. He employed a number of foreign musicians, mostly Italians. Together with Platti six further Italian musicians were employed in 1722. After the sudden death of the Prince-Bishop in 1724, conditions for the musicians at court deteriorated. The number of musicians was considerably reduced, and only two of the Italian musicians could stay on.

In 1723 Platti married the soprano Maria Theresia Lambrucker. She was also employed at court. When Friedrich Carl von Schönborn, brother of Johann Philipp, was elected new Prince-Bishop in 1729, conditions improved. Platti stayed in Würzburg until his death in 1763. His wife gave birth to at least ten children. She died in 1752. Platti was “Oboist, Violinist und Tenorist”. A list of the court musicians from 1730 shows that “Virtuos Platti” was the best paid musician, and continued to be so, despite changes of monarch. He earned twice as much as the “Kapellmeister”.

Platti’s position at court was unique. He was involved in chamber and church music and served as oboist and violinist. Later on he was assigned other tasks, including pedagogical ones. In a decree of 1730 it is stated that he was to teach Johanna Wolf (daughter of the Dance Master), the castrato Busch, and (after Busch’s disappointing lack of development) the soprano Vogel. In a record from 1757 it is mentioned that two military band musicians were to stay at court in order to follow Platti’s tuition. He was thus also supposed to teach oboists. Platti was no doubt a virtuoso.

As a composer Platti is renowned for his harpsichord sonatas, numerous pieces for cello and his church music. His work has distinct pre-classical features, associated with composers such as Haydn. His melodious imagination and lively, elegant style are apparent. His slightly anonymous existence in Würzburg obviously contributed to the fact that he never gained the recognition he deserves.

Friday, 9 February 2018

We sometimes need a little more substantial lunch than the fresh, seasonal fruit we usually have and in that case it’s easy to rustle up some savoury muffins that can be made quickly and eaten straight out of the oven. They are also very nice for a Winter breakfast.

MethodPreheat oven to 200˚C. Grease muffins tins well.Place bread pieces evenly in muffin tins until they come about 2/3 of the way up the tin.Sprinkle ham pieces evenly in each tin, followed by the grated cheese.Whisk together eggs, milk, ground mustard, pepper, mace, parsley and chives (or onions).Pour egg mixture evenly in each muffin tin.Bake for 15-18 minutes or until golden brown on top and cooked through the middle.

This week in Poets United the Midweek motif is “Shoes”. The origin of the English idiom “Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes.” is given above. My poem below:

Walk in His Shoes

It’s easy to dismiss the homeless man as lazy,A good-for-nothing shirker of responsibility.He is the foolish grasshopper who now freezes in Winter,Because he sang all Summer long, isn’t he?While we, industrious ants, were working hard…He sits in a large carton, wrapped in an old, dirty blanketWhile his breath condenses into tiny snowflakes.He trembles and his eyes stare vacantly into the night,While passers-by (few that they are) ignore himWrapped as they are in furs, woolen coats, warm boots.He knows their thoughts and he’s given up hopingFor a few coins, that would buy him something hot to eat.Way out beyond hope is the expectation of a kind word,Someone who’s willing to stop and acknowledge him,And his wretched existence as a fellow human.The wind howls and the people rush to catch the train home,Tonight is no night for laggards, there is no promenading.The homeless man feels his teeth chattering as the sharp razorOf the midwinter cold slices through him, freezing his heart(Does he still have one? – He wonders).A man and his son stop in front of him and the father drops some moneyInto the empty tin the homeless one has forgotten beside his carton.As the vagrant warmly smiles, the son frowns and admonishes his father:“Our teacher said to not give money to bums; that sort of thing encourages them,And they only spend it on booze, and the problem multiplies…”The father looks at the son, surprised, and says calmly:“Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes, Son...”The son look askance at the homeless man, who shifts in his cartonRevealing his bare, dirty, bluish, freezing feet;“Ha! Look he has no shoes; no doubt he spent the money on liquor.”The father looks at his son’s warm boots and says:“Take off your boots and give them to this barefoot man.Then judge him when you’ve walked home on your naked feet,Trudging that long mile through icy puddles, mud and dirty water…”

Tuesday, 6 February 2018

“In the middle ages people were tourists because of their religion, whereas now they are tourists because tourism is their religion.” - Robert Runcie

Welcome to the Travel Tuesday meme! Join me every Tuesday and showcase your creativity in photography, painting and drawing, music, poetry, creative writing or a plain old natter about Travel.

There is only one simple rule: Link your own creative work about some aspect of travel and share it with the rest of us. Please use this meme for your creative endeavours only.

Do not use this meme to advertise your products or services as any links or comments by advertisers will be removed immediately.

Bruges (Dutch: Brugge) is the capital and largest city of the province of West Flanders in the Flemish Region of Belgium, in the northwest of the country. The area of the whole city amounts to more than 13,840 hectares, including 1,075 hectares off the coast, at Zeebrugge (from Brugge aan zee meaning “Bruges by the Sea”).

The historic city centre is a prominent World Heritage Site of UNESCO. It is oval and about 430 hectares in size. The city’s total population is 117,073 (1 January 2008), of whom around 20,000 live in the city centre. The metropolitan area, including the outer commuter zone, covers an area of 616 km2 and has a total of 255,844 inhabitants as of 1 January 2008.

Along with a few other canal-based northern cities, such as Amsterdam, it is sometimes referred to as The Venice of the North. Bruges has a significant economic importance thanks to its port and was once one of the world’s chief commercial cities. Bruges is well known as the seat of the College of Europe, an elite university institute for European studies regarded as “the EU’s very own Oxbridge.”

Bruges has most of its medieval architecture intact, making it one of the most well-preserved medieval towns in Europe. The historic centre of Bruges has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 2000. Many of its medieval buildings are notable, including the Church of Our Lady, whose brick spire reaches 122.3 m, making it one of the world's highest brick towers/buildings. The sculpture Madonna and Child, which can be seen in the transept, is believed to be the only of Michelangelo’s sculptures to have left Italy within his lifetime.

Bruges’ most famous landmark is its 13th-century belfry, housing a municipal carillon comprising 48 bells. The city still employs a full-time carillonneur, who gives free concerts on a regular basis.

Saturday, 3 February 2018

“Old things are always in good repute, modern
things in disfavour.” - Tacitus

Let us travel
back in time… Let us transport ourselves to Italy of the early Baroque and let
us take a few steps in courtly dances that delighted nobles and amused princes.
Here is a selection of Pavanes, Gagliardes, Ciaccones and Passacaglias played
on instruments old and wondrous with sounds that fall easily on our jaded ears
and manage to captivate our attention and gladden our soul.

Friday, 2 February 2018

We visited an Italian pastryshop the other day and I asked for a particular type of sweet that I used to really like, but unfortunately they did not make it. I vaguely remembered seeing a recipe for it in our trusty recipe notebook and yes, when we got back home I did find the recipe. Here is the recipe, which we made that afternoon.

MethodHeat oven to 180°C. Lightly grease baking trays.Mix together sugar, eggs and oil. Add flour and baking powder, stirring to form a light dough (you may need to add a little more flour to shape balls).Form 2.5 cm balls and place on flat baking tray, pressing slightly on top to form hemispheres and bake about 10-15 minutes (until lightly browned on the bottom and pale on top).While still warm, take a small pointed knife and scoop out a pocket on the flat side of each cookie. Fill with jam and spread a small amount on the flat sides as you join 2 cookies together to form the peach.Colour the maraschino liqueur with a little food colouring to make a light peach colour and brush on the peaches to give them a “blush”. Then roll the peach in granulated sugar, placing a clove on top of each peach for a “stalk”. You may garnish with crystallised angelica “leaves” (or fresh mint leaves) for presentation.

In Italy, pesche are often served at wedding feasts as they are a symbol of Hymenæus, the Graeco-Roman god of marriage and they signify a long and happy marriage.

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Welcome to Nicholas V's Blog on Blogger

I have been blogging daily on this platform for several years now. It is surprising that I have persisted as the world is changing and "microblogging" is now the norm. I blog to amuse myself, make comment on current affairs, externalise some of my creativity, keep notes on things that interest me, learn something new and to surprise myself with things that I discover about this wonderful, and sometimes crazy, world we live in.

I sometimes get the impression that I am on a soapbox delivering a monologue, so your comments are welcome.